


The Truth Will Out

by Riki_W_Grayson



Series: The Truth Will Out [1]
Category: DC Universe
Genre: Abusive Relationship (not Bruce and Dick), Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assault, Batfam More of a Family, Bisexuality, Blackmail, Blood As Lube, Bondage, Bruce Needs to Learn How to Hug, Bruce Runs Wayne Enterprises, Bruce and Dick Closer in Age, Coming Out, Dick needs a hug, Dick's a Cop, Emotional Abuse, F/F, F/M, First Time, Forced Cuckolding, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Voyeurism, Forced blowjobs, Guilt, Heavy Bondage, Hurt No Comfort, Kidnapping, Life of a Billionaire, M/M, Masturbation, Nonconsensual anal, Physical Abuse, Pining, Psychological Manipulation, Rape Non-Con, Self Harm, Sexual Frustration, Slight Underage (It Turns Out Okay), Strangulation, Stressed Dick, Suicidal Thoughts, Unresolved Tension, Violence w/ Blood, Worried Bruce, asshole bruce, canonical violence, cum milking, forced penetration, trigger warning, very dark, worried everyone, worried tim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riki_W_Grayson/pseuds/Riki_W_Grayson
Summary: After years of spending night after night in the shadows, the dark was a comfort to him. It was both his security blanket and his confidence... There was nothing comfortable about the day, where everything was exposed to the light sooner or later. Dick had always preferred the night, but suddenly he found that the darkness was beginning to become uncomfortable as well.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/OC, Bruce Wayne/Original Female Characters, Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson/Original Male Characters, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: The Truth Will Out [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197245
Kudos: 16





	The Truth Will Out

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, this is not a happy fic. This first work is part of a future series, and while it is not the darkest part it is pretty messed up. It does get a LOT better in future works. A LOT, LOT better. SO if that's what you're in for, feel free to check back in when that part of the series is up. Anyways, I've always thought the adult connection between Bruce and Dick is more than just best-friend/mentor-ward loyalty, and they deserve a story with a happy ending. Again, this part is VERY dark, but it does eventually turn out all right. People that will be triggered should not read this, also, this is a VERY adult story. Besides that, if you're still down to read this, thank you.

Damn. She was good, and not in the “hot- damn” sort of way, but the “oh-shit” way in which Dick hadn’t fully understood what he was getting himself into. A flick of her wrist sent both of his escrima sticks skidding across the roof as her sword bit into them like a wolf into a rabbit, tearing them from his hands. Dick tried to back spring away from her but found himself ducking to narrowly avoid her side-snap, conveniently aimed at his right shoulder. If she had landed the kick, it would have dislocated the joint. He stepped back just in time, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid her recovery. Fluidly she moved toward him. Her hips barely grazed against his, but lingered long enough to make him notice. She positioned her lips, mere inches from his own. For a moment, hot breath tickled against his flushed cheeks, leaving him momentarily flustered. Dick would be lying if he said her actions weren’t stirring something deep inside him, something that he tried his best to keep buried. But now, that desire was beginning to surface. Dick panicked slightly as he realized he was a little turned on. 

She used his moment of hesitation to stick her leg between his, rubbing her thigh against his crotch before kicking out and then pulling in so that his leg was completely knocked from beneath him. 

Fuck.

A flash of light burst behind his retinas as his head hit the ground. Gasping through the pain he desperately tried to get ahold of himself. How could a fight be so sexual? What was her game? There was no time to ponder. He turned his head to the side, the tip of her sword grazing his cheek as she jabbed downwards, trying to smash his face in with her blade. Well, he was almost turned on. Of course, it was all a distraction. The smack to the back of his head had really cleared that up for him. Dick rolled like an alligator, catching her foot between his two ankles, bringing her down hard. Without skipping a beat he lunged forward, keeping her leg rolled between his, and slicing hard at a pressure point in her forearm, forcing her to unclench her fist and drop her sword. His elbow came down across her back, knocking the air from her lungs, allowing him to capture her in a side hold. 

She tried to wiggle free of his grasp, but Dick’s training insured she stayed put. He moved to sit on top of her back, pinning her arms with one hand and squeezing as tight as he could. Given her current attitude, he figured it was in his best interest not to let her have the use of her arms. He pulled two sets of cuffs from his suit pockets, one for her wrists and one for her ankles. She wriggled furiously as he fastened them, trying to kick away from him, but to no avail. 

“Kinky,” she spat, as he tightened the last cuff. Dick threw the sword to the side before answering. 

“Seduce your enemy before they realize what’s happening and it’s too late. Nice distraction tactic. I wouldn’t say it’s classic, but hey,” he leaned in, close to her ear, “everybody needs something to get them off at night. I assume that’s the only way you can get to sleep.” Dick stood, retrieving her sword first, and then his escrima sticks. 

“Nice theory. That part of my training only works on guys that don’t have trouble getting it up.” Dick grinned, allowing her this one final defiance. 

“Do I seem like the kinda guy that has trouble ‘getting it up’? Or have you not considered I’m just not that into you?” It wasn’t much to offer as a retort, but Dick did feel confident as he moved to secure her to the railing. “Something tells me the cops won’t appreciate your advances either, so don’t quit your day job.” He jumped from the roof, uninterested about anything else she might have to say. 

After he had put some distance between himself and her, he called the cops to alert them of the “situation” he had left on the roof-top of the casino. Never had he ever encountered an opponent that tried to feel him up while simultaneously trying to bash his face in. Dick allowed himself a few deep breaths, grateful that the experience was over. In truth, he really wasn’t interested in her at all. If anything, it wasn’t interest, but the lack of physical contact in his life lately that left him feeling rather… desperate. 

Keeping a steady lover had presented its challenges, his secret identity ruining many a night’s expectations. Dick couldn’t count the number of times he’d had to cancel a date just to remove another scumbag from the streets, both as Nightwing and as a cop. There was the occasional one-night stand, but he tried his best to avoid those types of encounters, as they always left him feeling guilty for some inexplicable reason that he didn’t care to further analyze. There was no point. He knew what he wanted, deep down, but couldn’t have. Ever. 

He slipped with ease from rooftop to rooftop. By now he had become familiar with every little ledge, every drop off, and every crevice of every dark alley way that marked the way back to his apartment. Blüdhaven shared much of its architectural ornament and their archaic creators with Gotham. But no matter how much it looked like Gotham, it would never be Gotham, something that filled him with both independence and a weird sense of homesickness. He tried not to think about it as he moved through the pre-dawn shadows, quietly making his way back to his apartment in the heart of Blüdhaven’s ghettos. Instead, he reflected on the woman he’d just handcuffed to a bar. He had been closing out his night by listening in on a conversation between two drug dealers, gathering intel on shipment dates and location. He’d caught the two in the back of the casino. Their security had been lax, allowing for some causal sleuthing. Dick had been reluctant to jump in before he had acquired enough information, but she forced him to do so. She’d appeared out of nowhere, instantly beheading the first dealer before turning to the second, presumably to question him, when Dick had to jump in to save his lead. Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful. But he’d underestimated her right out of the gate; which led to a chase, ending in a fight that had caused both of them a significant amount of pain. His head still pounded, a reminder of her fighting prowess. 

Her fighting style had been unique, a combination of various martial arts forms - much like his own standard of combat - mixed with masterful swordsmanship. Swords-womanship. She also hadn’t worn a mask, something that unsettled him. Hardly ever in his crime fighting career had he come across individuals brazen enough to go about their business naked faced. Not only did this put them at risk, but also the lives of the individuals they might care about. This immediately disqualified her as working with the League or the Court, both of which were on his radar at the present. So who was she working for? She clearly had nothing to lose by showing her face. But what did she have to gain? Why knock off a couple of pill pushers which, much like Gotham, were a dime-a-dozen in Blüdhaven? And that weird sense that she was trying to fuck him. But that was just a distraction, right? None of it made sense, but things seldom did.

There was one possible lead, her sword. Unlike most blades he came across in his line of work, her’s had a guard before the hilt, medieval style. The way she had wielded it spoke to a whole new level of sparring technique than he’d previously studied. If he could just figure out what material it was made of he might have a shot at pinning down her agency. No matter, he’d analyze it tomorrow. Right now, he needed sleep, and possible a shower.

Dick squeezed through the cracked window of his apartment, glad that he didn’t have to leave it shut anymore. When he’d lived with his previous roommate, she had made him shut it to keep the utility bills down. He was forced to change in the alley and walk in the front door. She’d been suspicious at first, but Dick convinced her that he was moonlighting as a male escort as a way of saving money to put him through the Academy, and that was enough to throw her off the scent. At least Dick had hoped. Luckily he hadn’t had a roommate since the start of his employment at BPD. 

The sword he tucked discreetly into the back of his closet. He knew he could have left it for the cops to find, it would help them tie her to the case. But Dick also knew the CCTV footage of her decapitating a man and skewering the second would work just as well. 

Gingerly he removed his suit. He had at least half a dozen cuts on his body, none deep enough to require stitches, and a colorful peppering of bruises were starting to form on his torso where he had failed to absorb some of her heavier kicks. Possibly, a broken rib or two, but only the morning would tell. His headache could be cured with Tylenol. He doubted he had a concussion, but again, he’d have to wait awhile longer to find out. He tossed his suit into the closet along with his escrima sticks and combat boots, shutting the door for good measure. Better safe than sorry. He’d learned that the hard way. His briefs he discarded onto a pile of dirty clothes next to the closet. 

The rest of the apartment was dark, but he didn’t bother to turn the lights on until he got to the bathroom. After years of spending night after night in the shadows, the dark was a comfort to him. It was both his security blanket and his confidence. Cold tiles pressed against his bare feet as he stepped into the shower and turned the faucet to hot, as hot as he could stand it. The heat comforted him almost as much as the darkness of his empty apartment. Dick moaned as he allowed his overworked muscles to relax under the pressure and warmth. For a moment he stood there, head tilted up, holding his breath so the water could hit his face. It trickled down his body, and through his hair, almost like fingers. His lungs started to burn, but he didn’t want to come up for air, not yet. 

Dick tried to feel everything, just for a moment. The cold beneath his feet and the warmth on top of them grounded him. Tendrils of water slipping through his hair baited him. Clenched muscles unclenched. His neck popped, and then his back. It almost felt like pure bliss, but the water also stung the cuts maring his body, and standing so strait and so still forced him to feel every hit he had taken. Air exploded from behind his lips as he could no longer contain it inside his lungs. Tilting his head down he gasped for air, white spots danced at the edges of his weary eyes.The tips of his fingers tingled. 

All at once the countless weeks of physical isolation, tired indifference to his basic bodily functions, and pent up sexual frustration rose to the surface. His life had been nothing but patrol, police work, overtime, and more patrol. So many of his beat cases had coincided with his extracurricular activities he found himself constantly working a case no matter what suit he might happen to be wearing. He hadn’t made detective yet, most rookies never made detective that early. But he certainly did enough paperwork for half a prescincts’s worth of them. He spent so much time looking down at his desk that a knot had formed at the start of his thoracic vertebra, right below his neck, and he was sure that his brow would be permanently furrowed. 

He pushed work to the remotest corners of his mind and focused on his needs for the first time in what felt like months.The water pattered lightly against the tiles of the bathroom, but beyond that, there was complete silence. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was worried about nothing. Just for these few moments, he could think about himself. About his own desires. 

Dick raised his hand to lightly pinch his nipples. They were sore from the constant use of his chest muscles, but the sharp tinge of pleasure was more than enough for him to continue. He reached his other hand down to cup his balls, massaging them lightly with one hand. He was hard almost instantly, and it shocked him how quickly his body responded. Bracing himself against the wall he took his throbbing cock into his hand and stroked himself slowly. His fingers ran around the sensitive tip, before he tightened his grip and moved his hand downwards along the rest of his length. He wanted to go slow, to enjoy this, but he needed this so badly it hurt. Tightening his grip even more he moved faster. The water felt fantastic, much like the hardly used water- based lubricant he kept in his nightstand. Short pants and low, guttural moans escaped his lips. 

Before long he felt a familiar pressure building just below his navel. He bit his lip, eager and desperate for what was to come. Subconsciously, his mind began to drift. It had been so long since he had been with anyone, so long since he had had the time to think about anyone in this way. Unbidden, the image of the man he had moved cities to get away from entered the forefront of his mind. Dick tried to push him out, but no matter how thick of a wall he built, his subconscious pushed through. The memory of those blue eyes captured his attention. They were eyes that could hold a person in place when the man himself hadn’t said a word. Eyes that saw everything. Eyes that commanded. 

And then he was coming thinking about what those hands could do, hips rocking up and forward into his fist, cum spilling over his fingers, lips parted in a drawn out moan, head leaned against the wall of the shower. He was coming to the thought of Bruce, of those eyes pinning him in place just as much as his strong hands would. Dick allowed himself to think of Bruce in those brief moments of privacy and raw human desperation - in the quietest hours of the night when the only one there to witness this act was the one committing it.

Then it was over. His cum washed away with the water, taking with it any satisfaction he might have derived from the activity. Instead of feeling sated, he felt empty, and more alone than before. He turned the water to cold and finished showering quickly. More than anything he wanted to go back to the only home he had known his entire life. It wasn’t the mansion that had made it a home to him, but the man that lived inside of it. The man was a constant, a fixed point that could never be taken away like others he had once considered to be his home. But he himself had wrecked that. 

Wrecking things seemed to be his specialty. He had wrecked Haly’s Circus, his innocence, his career as Robin, and his partnership with Bruce. The latter, not because of the argument they had had, but because of the recent feelings he had been developing for the man that had once taken him in. Bruce might never know how Dick felt about him, but that didn’t change the fact that now every time he saw him, he would think about the sinful things he desired the man to do to him. 

He wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed a bottle of peroxide from the medicine cabinet, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror as much as possible. Already, the pangs of guilt were starting and Dick knew it would be even longer before he was desperate enough to do that again. The cut on his cheek had already clotted. Nothing a little makeup wouldn’t be able to fix. Finishing up, he brushed his teeth and popped some Tylenol. Slowly, he made his way - nearly stumbling with exhaustion - to his bed. He made an effort not to glimpse at the time, vowing not to look at how many minutes, hopefully hours of sleep he could squeeze in before he had to leave for his day job. 

No, Dick sighed heavily into his pillow. There was nothing comfortable about the day, where everything was exposed to the light sooner or later. Dick had always preferred the dark, but he found that, especially after this night, the darkness was beginning to become uncomfortable to him as well.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made if this far, thank you. Beginnings are always hard for me to write so I apologize if it sucked.


End file.
